


Melancholy Kaleidoscope

by Wellthisdidntgotoplan



Series: everyone's shagging because I said so [3]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Charles is Sad, M/M, best friends who fuck, charles is having a bad day, charles switches moods faster than the wind changes, get you a friend like pierre, pierre is soft, the best kind of friends tbh, way more emotional than I meant it to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:13:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24065635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wellthisdidntgotoplan/pseuds/Wellthisdidntgotoplan
Summary: No matter what happened this weekend they were always going to end up like this, the only difference between that and reality is that Charles thought it would be celebratory sex
Relationships: Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc
Series: everyone's shagging because I said so [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704709
Comments: 10
Kudos: 55





	Melancholy Kaleidoscope

**Author's Note:**

> I love Charles' dramatic ass and I would give my soul to the devil if it meant Pierre Gasly was never sad  
> P.S my friend pointed out to me that I seem to have a vendetta against Red Bull, I promise you I don't, I stan the Red Bull dream team that is Max and Alex and how could I hate Mr. Ginger Spice

It’s honestly a bit pathetic how this ends up being the thing he looked forward to this weekend.

It was supposed to be the weekend where all eyes were on _Charles Leclerc_.

Charles Leclerc a future world champion.

It’s race weekend in Monza, he’s the Ferrari prince and if the universe were kind, he would have won. The Ferrari prince was supposed to win. The Ferrari prince _was not_ supposed to end up crashing out on the fifth corner into the race. Charles Leclerc was better than that. It was utterly shameful. This race will haunt him forever like a black ink splatter on the most perfect page.

Charles is aware no matter how this race went he definitely always going to end up on his back with Pierre on top of him. This was not something he had any contention with, the problem was that when he imagined this scenario he was a winner, and this was celebratory best friend sex. Now, Charles can’t help but feel as though this was just pity sex. Pierre is too sweet to probably even consider pity fucking Charles, but he can’t ignore the voice in the back of his mind telling him that Pierre just felt sorry for him.

He won’t lie. The sex with Pierre is always good, even now, as Charles pushes back against Pierre who’s thrusting perfectly into that spot that makes his toes curl; Charles is conscious of the fact that he is still a man who crashed out first lap at arguably the most important race of the year for his team. It doesn’t matter how good it feels as Pierre mouths at his neck, whispering praise in French, he still made a completely unnecessary mistake that cost his team. Even rookies didn’t make mistakes like that.

Perhaps, the biggest problem about this entire situation was the fact was despite Charles being angry with himself, he was mainly embarrassed. It would be different if someone had crashed into him, or he ran over some debris, but no, it was his own mistake - a mistake that could have been avoided. Charles has never had an embarrassing race. Charles has never done anything in Formula One to warrant embarrassment as an emotional response. He’s better than that. Charles Leclerc is almost perfect. He doesn’t make dumb mistakes. He doesn’t cost himself or his team points. When things go wrong it’s hardly ever his own fault.

He was better than that.

He’s sad and embarrassed and Pierre - _his best friend_ \- is pity fucking him.

Charles never wants to come back to Monza again.

The overwhelming urge to suddenly cry hits him. Tears of embarrassment threaten to spill. Which makes everything worse. Charles is losing it. No race has ever made him feel quite like this, not even when he and Seb touched in Brazil. Monza is clawing at his chest, stripping away the walls he’s so proudly built. He’s crumbling quickly - so unexpected and yet so inevitable. There’s only so much a person could take.

Pierre the best friend a person could ask for, just knows. Knows that somethings wrong. He pulls away from Charles’ neck to look him in the eyes. Charles wishes he hadn’t stopped because now he’s looking into Pierre’s concerned eyes. He can’t hide from his feelings anymore. He can’t push them down until they disappear. Pierre the one person who has been a constant in his life. The person Charles can always trust not to leave him in pain. Pierre is too pure. Too kind to let Charles suffer in silence and alone.

“You’re upset.” Not a question and Charles hates that Pierre’s stopped.

Charles whines. He pushes back against Pierre, trying his damned best to distract Pierre, “Don’t stop.”

Pierre obviously doesn’t like that, he pulls out of Charles all together. He doesn’t move off of him, “You are upset that you crashed, no?”

_Yes._

“No.” He frowns, grabbing Pierre’s hip pulling him back, grinding on Pierre’s still hard cock, “Fuck me.”

“Charles, please.” He’s pleading, his concern warms Charles. He likes being the centre of attention, but this means more than that ever could, and Charles doesn’t know what to do with that information at all.

He decides to give in.

“I’m embarrassed.” He mumbles, wrapping his arms around Pierre’s neck, pulling him down until he’s lying on top of him. He tucks his head into Pierre’s neck, feeling safest there.

Then, his heart sinks as Pierre laughs softly at him.

“Charles, you made a mistake. You’re only human.”

“I’m better than mistakes.”

“Maybe you are, but you made a mistake.” Pierre rolls them over, running a hand gently down Charles’ back, “You aren’t the first driver to have a bad race, you certainly won’t be the last. I mean look at me. I got demoted.”

Charles snorts, “Everyone gets demoted at Red Bull you’re not special.”

Pierre always makes everything better. Charles doesn’t feel so bad anymore, he doesn’t feel like he’s seconds away from breaking down anymore. Pierre definitely isn’t having pity sex with him. Which is good, great even. He still crashed, he still looked like a fool, but Pierre is right. He may have had a bad race, but it will never be as embarrassing as Red Bull going through drivers like hot meals.

Just like that Charles is fine.

Which is dangerous.

He’s lying on top of his best friend who he was just fucking.

Charles is gorgeous and horny.

He sits up, bracing his hands on Pierre’s chest. He gazes at Pierre through his eyelashes, doing what he does best and looking absolutely stunning. Pierre grins up at him, his hands moving back to Charles’ thighs, squeezing them. He readjusts slightly, moving back until Pierre’s cock is sliding in between his cheeks, then he starts moving. He rocks back gently against Pierre, the friction just enough to feel good. He wants Pierre to feel the way he feels around him. He wants Pierre to feel that good.

He grabs the lube from next to Pierre’s head, uncapping it and squirting some onto his hand before leaning back and stroking Pierre’s cock, lubing him back up. He slips two fingers inside himself, getting himself wet enough for Pierre to slide back into him. Pierre is pink and his fingers digging into the meat of his thigh, Charles can’t help the moan that escapes his mouth. Charles likes when Pierre digs his fingers in, grabs a little harder; he remembers when they first did this and how Pierre had been terrified to touch him. So, now on the rare occasion when Pierre is a bit rougher with him, Charles turns into a total slut.

A quick check to make sure the condom is on properly, then Charles is sinking down onto Pierre. Somehow, it feels even better than before. He feels fuller, it makes no sense, it doesn’t need to. This just feels better, maybe it’s because Pierre makes Charles feel fuzzy all over - makes Charles feel like he’s the sun that everyone else worships. He grinds down, relishing in the way Pierre groans, his fingers still digging into his flesh. He might bruise, that thought makes Charles’ cock twitch.

Bracing himself firmly against Pierre’s chest, Charles starts moving properly. Lifting himself then sinking down teasingly slow. The power rush it gives him is delicious. After the day he’s had, he deserves it. Relishing in the control over Pierre - _his best friend_ always willing to give him what he needs. He needs this. Charles is being a menace, a teasing menace. It’s wonderful. He wouldn’t even say he was riding Pierre properly. He can’t find in himself to care because the slower he goes the harder Pierre digs his fingers it and that is far more appealing to him.

“Now, you’re being mean.” Pierre huffs out. Charles doesn’t think he’s that unhappy about. Pierre is panting hard, the flush from his face had spread down to his chest. Oh, and Charles clenching around his cock, can’t be a bad thing at all.

Pierre maybe the nicer out of the pair. The light to Charles’ darkness. But, Charles is good to those he trusts and there is no one Charles trusts more.

So, Charles decides to be nice.

Reward the man who gently spoke him out of spiralling.

Charles sinks down onto Pierre hard, then lifts himself up before Pierre can even finish moaning. Charles can’t breathe as he rides Pierre quickly; his head is thrown backwards, his eyes squeezed shut, toes curling. He feels full, he can feel Pierre in his throat. Pierre is praising him breathlessly in French, and it makes Charles whine. Pierre thrusts up into him, tearing a moan out of Charles. They meet each other, Pierre thrusting up, Charles sinking down. It’s ridiculous how amazing it feels, Pierre filling him just right, hitting that spot in him that makes him see stars. His orgasm takes him by surprise. Pierre thrusts up hard into him and just like that he’s coming untouched, crying out Pierre’s name.

He doesn’t stop though. He’s better than that. He sinks back down onto Pierre, overstimulated but eager to make Pierre come too. Pierre thrusts up into him chasing his orgasm. Charles clenches around him, it’s his turn to praise Pierre in French. That seems to push Pierre over the edge because he’s gripping Charles’ thighs so hard it’s holding him in place as he orgasms, and Charles wants to come again just from that sensation.

He slowly rolls off of Pierre, his thighs aching, but a grin on his face. He looks over at Pierre, still flushed bright pink.

Pierre smiles at him.

Everything feels perfect.


End file.
